


Five Foods The Mad Hatter Tried in the World of Children's Stories, and One Drink

by cookinguptales



Category: Alice (2009)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, fandom_stocking, five things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 07:18:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookinguptales/pseuds/cookinguptales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hatter has a lot to get used to in this strange, new world. Thankfully, Alice is more than happy to help out with his cultural education.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Foods The Mad Hatter Tried in the World of Children's Stories, and One Drink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alyse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyse/gifts).



> Written for alyse's fandom_stocking 2012. (Edited in time for f_s 2013 to actually be attached to her AO3. lol)

Hatter remembered that once, during those busy days between the coup and the coronation, he and Alice had stolen away to get some precious downtime. They’d sat there at the table, picking at their dinners in an effort to prolong the meal, and Alice had told him stories of her world. Somehow even the royal banquet set in front of them didn’t seem half as appetizing as the foods she described, pizza dripping with gooey cheese and frozen treats to be enjoyed on a hot day. Tea, she told him, was only a drink where she was from--no magical or emotional properties whatsoever.

At the time, he had absorbed those tales wistfully, thinking that he would never get a chance to taste the delicacies that she had described in such loving detail. It was only later that he encountered these foods himself.

1.  
It hadn’t been long since Alice had gotten out of the hospital, and he and Alice were twined together on the loveseat in her living room, still not quite willing to let go of one another. Her mother had discreetly slipped out earlier that day. He couldn’t help but be grateful that the bemused look she typically fixed him with was finally beginning to fade. He was just thinking that wow, this was great, this was really lovely, when their quiet moment was broken by a distinctive growl.

Alice pulled away a little with a laugh. He felt that he really should be offended, but seeing that twinkle in her eyes, that one that he never thought he’d see again--well, it was distracting. “Hungry?” she asked.

“No, I’m fine, really, I--” he was cut off by another grumble from his stomach. “Well, maybe just a bit.”

Alice grinned at him, then stood up from her place on the couch, an event which he couldn’t let go without one little whimper of protest. “Come on, get up,” she told him, holding out her hand.

He took it without a second thought. “Where are we going?”

“I seem to remember something about pizza?

 

She took him to this little place down the street, a mom and pop pizza parlor. He wasn’t exactly sure what to expect, but it wasn’t the barrage of smells that greeted him. The cheese was expected, but there were other things mixed in there, unfamiliar vegetables and meats and sauces he wasn’t able to put a name to. He was so caught up in it that he didn’t even notice that Alice had ordered for them until she was lacing her fingers through his and pulling him over to a table.

It was a surprisingly short time before a server, some gangly kid too young to look that self-important, brought them what they’d ordered. He set it down in front of them, a golden disk that smelled like heaven itself. He sniffed it cautiously, and then, with an encouraging smile from Alice, he took a bite.

He could still remember his first sip of Ecstasy, the way it had filled him up, made him buoyant, the joy that had sung through his very bones. And though he knew that no one back home would ever believe it, that first bite of pizza felt an awful lot like ecstasy. He may have made a movement, or made a noise--hell, he might have even been getting third-degree burns off of that cheese--but that was neither here nor there. For a few very special moments, the only thing he was focused on was trying to separate those flavors, figure out what he liked best, puzzle out what it was that made this greasy triangle so appealing.

Those moments were broken when Alice cleared her throat across the table. He looked up at her, mouth still full of pizza. “I’m sorry, do you two need a few minutes alone?” she asked.

He almost made a smart-ass remark in return, but there was that sparkle again that made his throat tighten up a little bit, so he just forced himself to swallow and gave her a rueful smile.

“Don’t worry,” she said, reaching out to pat his free hand consolingly. “Next time we’ll just order in and watch a movie.”

And if that was what his Friday nights became, one arm around Alice and the other cradling the equally important box of pizza while Enter the Dragon played on the tv, well, that was nothing he would complain about.

 

2.  
Oh god, he was sore, he was so sore and he wished that he had never come to this blasted world. Alice smiled cheerily at him as they walked back to her house, and that just made it all _even worse_. Wearing that sweet smile, you would never guess that she had just beaten him ruthlessly into the mat because “Hatter, you can’t just depend on one fist all the time.”

“I told Mom that we’d be working late tonight, so she said she’d take care of dinner,” she was telling him, and he was nodding like he didn’t want to drop dead on the pavement.

He kept nodding as they walked, aware that he could be agreeing to be handing over his soul, for all he knew. (Though it’s not as if she didn’t already have a firm hold on it anyway.) He nodded as they went up the front step, and he nodded as they stepped inside, only stopping when he got a whiff of a vaguely aquatic smell. “Is that--”

Carol poked her head in the room and gave him a smile that warmed him to his toes. “The oysters will be done in just a few minutes, guys. Why don’t you come in the kitchen and help me set the table?” She didn’t wait around to hear the answer, but that was all right; it hadn’t really been a question.

He exchanged a glance with Alice, eyebrows raised, before saying, “You have _got_ to be kidding me.”

 

3.  
The thing was, in Wonderland, it did get warm sometimes, and he had obviously spent more than his fair share of time getting washed up on beaches. This, however, this was entirely different. “Summer” was different in this strange, new land. It wasn’t just warm, it was oppressively hot. He could see the heat wafting up from the pavement as he walked to work, and the city smells, which were always pungent, were unbearable. He’d never been so grateful for his hat before, even though it could do little against the sun’s harsh rays.

This in mind, he had jumped at the chance when Alice had proposed they go on a little drive to the beach. (And no matter what Alice said, learning what passed for women’s bathing suits in this world had had absolutely no bearing on his decision at all. Though Alice did look very nice indeed in hers.)

After splashing around in the surf for a couple hours, they were salty and wet and had sand in unmentionable places. When he finally flopped back on his towel with a heavy sigh, he opened his eyes to slits to see Alice giving him an impish grin. “What? What is it?” he asked. He’d become very much acquainted with that grin in recent months and looked forward to it now with equal parts eagerness and trepidation.

“Have you tried ice cream yet?” she asked, crouching down to block his sun.

Ice cream. Ice cream. He’d seen it around town, but hadn’t had the occasion to try it yet. “I’ve... heard of it?” he hazarded.

And that was how, about ten minutes later, he found himself holding a cone of chocolate ice cream. It was a bit of a challenge to lick up all the drops before they hit the sand below, but in his mind entirely worth it. It was thick and creamy, and just sweet enough to satisfy. As he licked a stray drop off the side of his cone, he caught Alice gazing at him with an unreadable expression. He raised an eyebrow at her, unwilling to part with his cone quite long enough to ask the question properly.

That was enough for Alice, though, who had become rather adept at reading his various grimaces, and she held out her own pink cone. Strawberry. “Would you like a taste of mine?”

“ _Yes,_ ” he stated definitively. Yes, he would definitely like more where this came from. To his disappointment, however, she pulled the cone away from him and sidled her body close instead. _I should have expected this,_ was his last thought before she closed the distance between their lips, the flavors of strawberry and chocolate mingling between them.

 

4.  
There was one thing that he’d always wondered back in Wonderland: if the distilled positive emotions of Oysters were so incredibly potent, if one whiff of Satisfaction could knock a grown man off his feet and a sip of Passion could down a woman for days, then what on earth would happen if they captured negative emotions? It had been a thing that he’d never allowed himself to dwell on, fearing the answer.

Today, however, he was pretty sure that he had just enjoyed a brief taste of distilled Disgust.

“What _is_ that?” he gasped out as he grasped around feebly for a glass of water.

Alice rolled her eyes, but there was also a distinct look of mischief there, he noted. Of course. How had he ever expected anything less? “They’re just brussels sprouts, Hatter. You can hardly expect us to give you dessert if you don’t eat your vegetables,” she told him, and yes, there was definitely a teasing lilt to her voice.

He drained his glass and then narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re joking, aren’t you? This isn’t actually food. People don’t actually consume these.”

“Of course they do,” Carol told him. Then, as if noticing Alice’s amusement, added, “But you should have seen Alice when I tried to make her eat them when she was a little girl.”

“Mom, he really doesn’t want to hear about that,” Alice quickly cut in.

He leaned back in his chair and gave Alice an appraising glance, letting it linger on one or two more interesting areas. “No, I’m pretty sure I do. In fact, I’m positive.”

 

5.  
Halloween, Alice had called it. A day dedicated to the ghosts and ghouls that were nothing but fairy stories in this world. All day he had been able to do nothing but look on in bemusement as children ran around in costumes, each trying to outdo the other in horror and ghastliness. It was bizarre--what did these children know of real monsters?

“See, what I don’t get,” he said as he helped zip up the back of Alice’s costume, “Is how dressing up in silly costumes is supposed to make the actual beasties run away.”

She turned and adjusted her witch’s hat. “You’re thinking about this too hard, Hatter. It’s tradition. It’s supposed to be fun, not a matter of life and death,” she told him. She reached for the bowl next to them on the kitchen counter and placed it into his hands. “Have some candy.”

He looked down at the bowl of brightly-wrapped treats somewhat dubiously. He’d had treats before in Wonderland, little comfits and sugared fruit, but nothing that looked quite like this.

Alice caught wind of his hesitation and gave him an encouraging smile. “The Reese’s are my favorite.”  
He picked up one of those, a bright orange square with yellow lettering, and carefully unwrapped it. It was a little brown disk covered in a waxy brown substance that melted a little bit in his hands. In fact, it looked a little bit like-- “Is this chocolate?” he asked, holding up the treat so Alice could see.

She blinked at him in surprise. “Yeah. Don’t you guys have chocolate in Wonderland?” she asked.

“Well, yeah, but guys like me didn’t see it very often.” No, in his line of work, you couldn’t be choosy about what you put on the dinner table. Chocolate was the kind of thing you would find at the Casino, not at the tea shop. He regarded the disk, then popped it into his mouth.

Immediately, his mouth burst with flavor and it was all he could do not to drop the bowl. A tantalizing mixture of sweet and salty exploded into his mouth with a smoothness he had not expected. He chewed slowly, letting the chocolate melt fully and savoring the creamy nut filling. Absently, he pulled the bowl closer to his chest.

 

By the time the first trick-or-treaters made it to Alice’s house, they were fully immersed in their monster movie marathon and the living room was littered with candy wrappers. When the doorbell rang, he did _not_ jump, no matter what Alice said, nor did he hold her any tighter. 

“Hatter, I can’t breathe.”

Maybe a bit tighter. Just a little bit. He loosened his grip a bit so she could extricate herself and get up to answer the door. Much to his dismay, she took the half-empty bowl of candy with her.

“Oh, aren’t you cute?” he heard her exclaim, but didn’t think much of it. He was settling into something that Alice had referred to as a “candy coma” and right now he didn’t really care what the kids were dressed as. That is until Alice called to him, stressing his human name, “ _David_ , come see. It’s Alice and the Mad Hatter.”

He hauled himself up from his seat and made his way over to the door. Sure enough, there were two tiny little girls at the door, one dressed in a blue dress and a white pinafore, the other with a comically oversized green hat placed on mousy curls. “Adorable!” he exclaimed, his sardonic tone lost on the children, but easily caught by Alice. 

She covered her mouth to hide her laugh, and gestured towards the children with the candy bowl. “Why don’t you give them some candy, David?”

He directed a long-suffering expression her way, and grudgingly dropped a handful of Starbursts, Smarties, and Lemonheads into their bags.

Once the door was closed, Alice finally dissolved into the giggles she’d been holding back. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Hatter. I see you hoarding all the chocolate. Remember, that’s supposed to be for the children,” she told him, her faux-lecturing tone betraying her amusement.

He huffed and put the bowl behind his back, stoically hiding that smile that threatened to peek out as she grabbed for the candy. This world may have had strange ideas about monstrous beasts, but they certainly had the spirit to make up for it. 

Perhaps, he mused later as he nursed a Tootsie Pop, that was why human emotions were so incredibly potent in the first place. There was magic of a sort afoot in this world, but unlike the wildness in Wonderland, it was man-made. Everything was so intense here in this world, the sights, the sounds, the smells--and the flavors! With such incredible input, was it really such a wonder that their output was just as exquisite?

 

+1  
There was a tea shop around the block from his apartment that for several months he studiously ignored. Despite what Alice had told him about tea being powerless here, he still had his own set of memories that he couldn’t quite shake. He remembered the scorching slide of Lust down his throat, the way that Excitement seemed to set his very veins abuzz. He remembered the grimy backstreets where he had peddled his wares, and the sacrifices, the very great sacrifices, that had been necessary for each and every cup. He remembered the garish sights and sounds of the Casino, and the image of the Oysters’ eyes, that contented emptiness crumbling against the steady grind of terror, was forever burned into his mind.

He had been known to take creative shortcuts to avoid walking past that shop.

It went on this way until his first winter in Alice’s world. It was the first real, satisfying snow, and Alice had been bound and determined to introduce him to snowmen. It was a tradition, she said. So, apparently, was mild pneumonia. He spent an awful lot of time bundled up on the Hamiltons’ couch that winter, swaddled up in fluffy blankets and sniffling pitifully. Really, it wasn’t so bad. Nothing he’d never dealt with before. But he was not above a little play-acting if it earned him hugs and kisses and warm mugs of cocoa. Or, as the case may be, mugs full of sweet, brown liquid that certainly wasn’t chocolate, but wasn’t anything else he’d had, either. He sipped at it gingerly.

Carol tutted at him admonishingly from the other side of the living room, falling into her role as mother just as easily as she did with her own daughter now, and said, “Drink your tea, David. That’s a nasty cold.”

It was a testament to his fine (very fine, thank you) reflexes that he didn’t drop the mug. “What did you say this is?” he asked, and he knew it wasn’t the illness that made his voice sharp.

Carol gave him a funny look. “Tea with honey, for your throat. It’s nothing fancy, just some earl grey we had in the kitchen.”

He looked down into the mug and felt his stomach churn at the thought. After a few more moments, and after Carol’s gaze became more suspicious, he once again tried the tea. It was warm going down, but it wasn’t the fuzzy warmth of Adoration or the dizzying heat of Desire. It was just a simple heat and a complex flavor paired with a somewhat cloying sweetness that eased his throat on the way down.

He took another sip.

 

It wasn’t long after that that he finally managed to make his way into the tea shop on the corner. The girl behind the counter was very patient with his inexperience and recommended several basic teas for him to try. He went home with a large bag of tea and tried not to feel too unsettled. He tried orange pekoe and he tried chamomile, he tried rooibos and gunpowder. Instead of the pinks, blues, and oranges that had filled his tea shop in Wonderland, his cupboards soon became lined with whites, blacks, reds, and greens. There was a simple pleasure in opening a cupboard full of tea and finding it to be completely innocuous. As many things as he missed about Wonderland, this was one thing that this new world had right.

As the months turned into years, his collection grew until it was at least as vast as the one he had once had in Wonderland--if not more. When he and Alice eventually got their first home together, an entire shelf in the pantry had to be dedicated to his teas. Alice teased him about it, saying that an old dog couldn’t learn new tricks, but that wasn’t it at all. It was the newness that he reveled in. When he had a good cup of tea, it settled him somehow. The heat was soothing, and so was the knowledge that his life was no longer dangerous. He didn’t have to worry about the monarchy lopping off anyone’s head and he didn’t have to worry about shadowy dealings with the resistance. There were no Jabberwocks to be found on the busy streets of this world, and White Knights were no longer needed. He could just drink his tea and walk up behind his lover, wrap his arms around her and laugh when she complained that his hands were too hot from his mug.

He knew that some inhabitants of Wonderland would find this new life to be frightfully boring, but it wasn’t, not really. He and Alice still went on their own private adventures. They traveled, met new people, experienced new things. He discovered new curiosities every day, and it wasn’t as if there were no frustrations in his new life. Still, though, there was a sense of safety and permanence that he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt before. When he came inside after a long day and had a cup of tea, it didn’t taste of Excitement or Hope. It tasted like home.


End file.
